In Your Arms
by hannnarivers
Summary: As his girlfriend lay sleeping on his chest, her head rising and falling in time with his breathing, Caleb felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She wasn't okay, by any means, but Hanna allowing herself to be vulnerable around him after everything that she'd been through was a step in the right direction. A continuation/filling out of the 6x02 Haleb scenes. Oneshot.


**This is a little something that I've been meaning to write for a while. It's actually based on quite possibly my favourite – and the most underrated – Haleb scene of all time (and one of my favourite PLL storylines of all time, actually).**

 **Enjoy!**

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In Your Arms

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" _Do you know what I want?"_

" _What?"_

" _I want my night-table back."_

…

It was the first kiss that they'd shared since she'd returned from the dollhouse.

It was sweet, and short – too short for both of their likings. But Caleb hadn't been sure whether she would be ok with it lasting for any longer; he didn't want to push her into doing something that she no longer felt comfortable with. He really didn't want to think that that was the case, that she'd no longer have any desire to be close to him, but the way in which she was displaying such intolerance to her bedroom, surroundings which she'd previously been so accustomed to, made him worry that she may also no longer want to be around him.

He had no idea what he, she, 'A', had done to Hanna in that dollhouse. All at once, he desperately wanted to know, and desperately didn't, because he knew that the truth about what had happened to his girlfriend would shatter his heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Maybe 'A' had done something to make her afraid of him, afraid of having intimate contact with people. He had no clue, and that scared him. It had always been in the back of his mind, that she could have been pressured into doing something that she didn't want to in there, that her body may have been used in ways that were unthinkable to him.

But as Hanna's hand reached up, and pulled his head back down towards hers for a slightly longer kiss, he breathed an internal sigh of relief. Though it wasn't definite proof that nothing of the sort had happened to her, it was certainly a good sign. He allowed himself to enjoy the kiss as Hanna opened her mouth underneath his; he had desperately missed this, he had desperately missed her.

Apparently, though, Hanna could still sense his hesitance, and pulled away from his lips slightly in order to set things straight. "I'm okay," She murmured, her warm breath tickling his nose, "It's okay to kiss me, I'm not going to break."

Caleb's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice; it was the first time that she had somewhat admitted that there might be a reason for her to feel vulnerable, or for other people to worry about her. Up until then, she had pushed away anybody who tried to talk about the dollhouse, or how she was feeling, or how people were feeling about her. This acknowledgement of Caleb's hesitance, and perhaps why it had occurred, almost made him feel a little relieved.

He had worried that he would never be able to get through to her, that she would never let him in.

Hanna always became very defensive when she was hurt, even concerning the smallest of issues; a grazed knee had once led to her not speaking to him for an afternoon after he had tried to comfort her. But this was a whole new level. He didn't know how to deal with it, because he was fully aware that if she didn't talk to somebody soon, whatever had happened to her in there would wear her down to a point at which she could no longer cope. And that was something that he just couldn't bear the thought of.

He gave her a short nod of understanding in reply to her remark, and moved his face back down again so that his lips were almost touching hers; almost, but not quite. His hand moved up to push a strand of hair back from her forehead, before it slid down to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the soft line of her dimple. Hanna closed her eyes at the contact, revelling in the comfort of her boyfriend's touch after having been deprived of it for so long.

"Tell me if I go too far," He murmured, their noses nudging each others as he ghosted his lips over hers, "Please."

She nodded slowly, seemingly complying with his wish, before she inhaled deeply. "I told you, it's okay," She expelled in a single exhale, her voice barely above a whisper. She was clearly trying to appear strong, unaffected, but he could see right through it.

Still, Caleb took her words as absolute truth, and his mouth met hers with gentle pressure, his lips coaxing hers apart with the gentlest of movements as he restarted their kiss. It was her who set the pace, moving things along by running her hand along his clothed back and pushing down a little, until he got the message and laid down on his front, so that she could deepen the kiss. She would gently bite his lip and soothe it with her tongue over and over again, whimpering into his mouth every time he got the message and increased the pressure of his kisses.

Wanting, _needing_ , more, but still feeling overwhelmingly cautious, Caleb tentatively moved his hand down to Hanna's hip, and slipped his thumb under the material of her cotton t-shirt. Amidst their kisses, Hanna mumbled a muffled, 'carry on', and so he slid his palm up to her ribcage, taking her shirt with it. He was painfully aware of the fact that he door was open, and that her mom was downstairs in the kitchen, eating her dinner; she could walk up the stairs at any given moment, and Ashley seeing them like _that_ definitely wasn't something that he wanted.

And so, his hand didn't venture up any further, despite the fact that that's what he – and she – may have wanted. Instead, he moved it underneath her shirt, and gently cupped her bra-clad breast in his hand, softly squeezing it in time with their languid kisses. If Hanna's throaty moans were anything to go by, he'd had no reason to worry that she wasn't ready to be intimate with him in the first place. She allowed him to continue his ministrations on her, angling her body so that he could reach her better, wanting to feel more of him, all of him.

After a minute or so, his hand slipped around to her back, where his fingers drew small circles on her heated skin. Hanna took the opportunity to move onto her side, effectively encouraging Caleb to lie on his back, so that she could lay half on top of him, half on the bed. She had more control this way, but he didn't mind at all; that's what he wanted, for her to feel in control again. That's what she'd been deprived of, in that dollhouse.

His other arm, now free, moved to join its counterpart, splaying over her back and pulling her smaller body down onto his. She swung one leg over him as the pace of their kisses increased, her hands tangling in his hair as she let out small mewls of contentment. Her lips, unannounced, moved from his mouth down to his jawline, where she languidly placed a series of wet kisses, before trailing them down his neck, and to his collar bone. Her hands ran down his chest to the bottom of his shirt, and her fingertips peeked underneath it, their coldness a harsh contrast against Caleb's burning skin.

He was about to let her pull it up, when he once again came to his senses, and realised that the small _bang_ he had just heard was Hanna's mother, closing a cupboard, too close to them for comfort. "Han," He murmured between kisses, barely able to get her name out before her lips were back on his, "Your mom, she's downstairs."

Hanna swallowed loudly and cleared her throat as she pulled away from him – only an inch or so – and her glazed-over eyes met his. Both could tell that the other wasn't ready to stop, but they were very aware of the fact that they had no choice in the matter. "Can you stay, though?" She asked tentatively, sounding a little desperate, a little needy, which was _totally_ understandable, Caleb thought. He loved that she wanted him there, that he was still a source of comfort to her. For some reason, he had been unnecessarily afraid that he wouldn't be, that she'd be too scarred or hurt or afraid to want to be close to anybody.

He nodded, and choked out an 'of course', to which Hanna smiled warmly in response. She lowered herself down onto the bed, and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, before letting it fall down slightly onto his chest. Her leg remained tangled between his, and her arm lay across his torso, almost as if she was afraid of him going, leaving, not _really_ being there with her. His arm snaked around her back until his hand could reach her shoulder, and he was able to soothe her by moving his hand from the top of her arm, down to her waist, and then back up again.

For the first time in weeks, they both felt comfortable, somewhat at peace.

It was a foreign, but gratefully welcomed emotion.

Hanna was the first to speak, her voice laden with tiredness, hushed, and noticeably deeper than usual. "You don't have to worry about being around me," She told him, sounding sure of herself, sure of what she was saying, "You're the only thing that makes me feel safe. You, and my mom, but in different ways. I like being held by you, close to you. I like knowing that I can have that kind of contact whenever I want to. I couldn't do that, in there. They wouldn't let me."

Caleb scrunched his eyes shut and winced at her words; he was glad that she couldn't see his face, because he didn't want her to know, then or ever, that he was in pain, too. It was a different kind of pain to hers, undoubtedly not as harsh, but it hurt him all the same. He'd been so afraid, during those weeks that she was gone. He was worried sick, anxious, scared of things that he'd never been scared of before; little noises and movements, which normally wouldn't phase him. He'd formed a new, overwhelming, fear of anything happening to her, of Hanna being taken away from him again.

But it wasn't about him – it was about her.

And so he couldn't tell her how desperately unhappy he had been, because then she would put the focus on him instead.

"I'll always be here, to hold you," He mumbled against her hairline, after lowering his head so that he could press a soft kiss there, "I'm never letting you go, remember?" He asked, repeating her words from just a few days ago, "I made a promise."

When he received no response, he assumed that Hanna had taken his words to be the truth, and so continued speaking. "I don't want to pressure you, you don't have to talk about what happened in there, if you don't want to. But I want you to know that it's okay if you do. I'm here to listen, and I'm not going to judge you, for anything. Nothing was your fault, Han, and I just want to make it better again. I know that you're scared of coming across as weak, because that's not who you are. You're the strongest person I know. But sometimes it's okay not to be strong, you don't have to pretend to be fine for me. I can see it in your eyes, I know that you're not. So when you're ready, if you're ever ready, you can talk to me. I'm not going anywhere."

A soft snore wasn't quite what he had expected in response, but it made him smile all the same.

To confirm his suspicion that Hanna was asleep, he peered down to look at her face; as he had expected, she was sound asleep against his chest, her lips slightly parted as wispy breaths escaped from between them. His smile grew bigger at the sight of her completely relaxed features – it was the first time that she'd fallen asleep without a fight since coming come. It made him happy to know that he appeared to be a source of comfort to her, for she always had been, and always would be, the same to him.

His hand moved around to her waist, his thumb drawing languid patterns on top of her t-shirt as he studied her face more closely, noting the way that a small strand of blonde hair, which was laying across her lips, fluttered up and down with every breath that she took. Her eyes were moving a little, and he could tell that she was dreaming. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, undoubtedly as a result of their previous activities. He couldn't help but inadvertently pull her a little closer to him – everything about her endeared him to her, made him want to stay like this, with Hanna in his arms, forever.

"It's you and me," He murmured, to no one in particular, as the girl whom it was directed at was peacefully sound asleep in his arms, "We'll get through this, together." His palm slid once, twice, up and down from her shoulder to her waist – he liked the feeling of her warmth, her solidity, under his hand. He liked knowing that she was there, that nobody could take her away from him.

Caleb stilled for a moment as her eyes fluttered ever so slightly at the movement of his hand; she simply mumbled something incoherent before her head fell back against his chest, her breathing evening out once more. He smiled, happy not to have woken her from her slumber.

He couldn't have imagined that she'd have slept much during her time in the dollhouse; she'd never told him precisely what had happened to her in there, but he guessed that it had been enough to keep them all wide awake at night, afraid of their own dreams. To see her sleeping so peacefully made him happy, gave him a sense of comfort, and some sort of hope that maybe, one day, everything would be okay again.

Lately, that's all he had hoped for. He didn't need amazing, he didn't even need good. Okay would definitely suffice.

He allowed his mind to wander, and, for the first time since she had disappeared, began to think about the situation in a positive way. It wasn't that he hadn't appreciated Hanna before – of course he had – but now that he knew what it was like to have their relationship threatened in such a potentially permanent manner, he was aware, more than ever, of how much she meant to him, and of how much he needed her. As a result, he had promised himself that he was going to make the most of every single day, moment, second that he got to spend with her.

The fact that he almost hadn't been able to spend the rest of his life with her had crushed him; the thought that they may not have been able to get married, have babies, grow old together. Now all of that was a possibility once more, and he couldn't be more grateful. He was never going to take anything for granted again, especially not Hanna, or their relationship. She meant more to him than anything, or anyone else, ever had.

He didn't know how long they'd been laying that when he heard footsteps approaching the open door to Hanna's room, and turned to see Ashley standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. She didn't look angry about the fact that he was still there, or about the fact that he was laying on her daughter's temporary bed. Instead, her face sported a very slight, very sad, smile.

"I'm gonna leave in just a minute," He offered, hoping to dispel any awkwardness that she may have felt about having to ask him to leave. He didn't want to go, of course, but he also didn't want to disrespect Ashley's newfound leniency.

To his surprise – or maybe not, considering Hanna's current situation – Ashley simply shrugged, before shaking her head. She wanted him to be there for her daughter; she knew that he was, amongst other things, what she needed. "Stay a while, let her sleep," She suggested in a hushed tone, wanting more than anything for Hanna just to be okay again.

But she wasn't naïve, and she knew that it was going to take more than just a nap with her boyfriend by her side in order for any sense of normalcy to return.

Caleb gave her a slight smile and turned his head back to Hanna, silently accepting Ashley's offer to stay. He looked down at where his hand was resting on Hanna's waist, his fingers wrapping around to her front. She looked so tiny, in his arms. He heard a few footsteps, and the soft sound of clothing meeting the bare walls of Hanna's room, and immediately knew that Ashley wasn't leaving any time soon. The look that they shared when he peered over to where she was sitting, up against the wall, was one of very mixed emotions; worry, sadness, and an odd sense of calmness, comfort. In a way, they were the only people who really understood what the other was going through – they were the two people who cared for Hanna the most, after all.

They were the two people who had been worried sick about her, for days on end.

They were the two people who just wanted to make her okay again, whatever the cost.

Sure, the friends, and family, and lovers of the other girls would have been worried, too. And they could connect with them on some level. But each of the girls were different, and every one of them was coping in a different way. Only Ashley and Caleb knew how it felt to be completely shut out most of the time, to be worried sick about what their loved one had gone through, but not be able to talk to about it. Instead of being held closer and more dear, like the families of the other girls were, they were being pushed away.

They both knew that Hanna being able to fall asleep like this was a step in the right direction.

She needed to sleep – she'd barely done it since she had arrived home. Instead, she'd cried, _wept_ , and refused to let anybody hold her when she did. It had only been a few days, but that was a long time to go without rest, especially after having been deprived of it for so long. It was no use trying to force her to lay her head down and close her eyes, though, it had to be of her own accord. She was adamant that she didn't want any kind of instruction, from anybody.

"Thank you," Came Ashley's hushed voice, breaking through the total silence in the eerily empty room. Caleb turned his head back towards her and furrowed his brow, curious as to why she was thanking him. Sensing his confusion, she continued, "For everything that you did whilst Hanna was gone. You helped me search for her, and never gave up, even when other people wanted to. You sat with me for hours as I cried, and tidied her bedroom for her, even though she wasn't here to sleep in her bed. You checked me into the hospital…"

Caleb's breath hitched at the memory – if Hanna had seen her mother in the state that she was in before, so bedraggled and lost and completely and utterly ruined, she'd have been scarred for the rest of her life. The day that he'd had to take her to the emergency room because she couldn't stop shaking, or throwing up, or crying, was more than a little frightening for them both. Ashley meant everything to Hanna, and he knew that. That was one of the reasons for which he'd had to, needed to, make sure that she was okay.

But there was another reason, too; Ashley hadn't just been a mother to Hanna, she'd also been a mother, of sorts, to him. Perhaps not in the same way, but she, along with Hanna, had offered him a home when nobody else had. Over the years, they'd formed a strong bond, and on numerous occasions, he'd found himself following advice that she had given him, or eating food that she'd prepared when she'd asked him to stay and have dinner with them, or sleeping on her couch when he hadn't quite made enough money to pay his rent that month. It wasn't that he felt indebted to her – he was just eternally grateful.

For someone who'd had so little growing up, every little thing that she had done for him, meant a lot.

"It's fine," He smiled at her, warmly, "There's no need to thank me. I did it for Hanna, and for you."

"For me?" She raised an eyebrow – now she was the one who was confused.

"Yeah," He nodded, "I know that I've never really thanked you for everything that you've done for me, but I want to now. I've never had a mom – a real one – but you're the closest thing to it. You've done so much for me, Ashley, and you didn't have to. But you did. And everything I did whilst Hanna was gone was the least I could do to repay you."

Ashley inhaled deeply as his words, swiping at a stray tear with her thumb as it ran down her cheek. What he'd said had meant a lot to her, especially as she had, apparently, affected his life in such a profound way. It made her feel as though she had at least done _something_ right. She'd always worried that she hadn't done a good enough job when it came to raising Hanna, given everything that her daughter had been through. But she knew, in her heart, that none of it had been her fault, not really.

"Anyway," He continued, sensing that she was getting a little emotional, "I wasn't going to stop searching for Hanna, even if it killed me. I don't know what I'd have done if-"

"I know," Ashley interrupted him, aware of exactly what he was going to say; she had no desire to hear those words spoken out loud, "Me neither. But she's here now, and everything's going to be okay. I promise."

She didn't sound too convinced herself, and Caleb wasn't entirely sure whether he believed her, either.

But it was good enough for him, for now.

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 **Hope you guys liked it – mostly plotless fluff, but ya know... sometimes that's the best kinda fic (I hope). Sadly, I'm back at uni now, and my days are 8am-6pm plus follow-up work, so I'm not gonna have as much time to write :( Reviews are very much appreciated, as always! x**


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